


Taking Pictures of Ghosts in Their Natural Habitat

by laceybean



Category: Mystery Skulls Animated
Genre: More tags to be added as they become relevant, Multi, Prompt Fic, Stand Alone Chapters, but i present them to you with no re-cuts or alterations, childhood flashbacks, some individual chapters may be nsfw but these will be labeled in the chapter title, some of these have been jossed out of canon compliance by virtue of how old they are
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 07:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 10,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16908726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laceybean/pseuds/laceybean
Summary: Brief glimpses into lives that are somehow both perfectly normal and exceptionally peculiar, all at once. A collection of one-shots, minifics, and prompt fills cross-posted from my blog. Some shipping, some gen, some pretty ancient relics tbh.





	1. Arthur; gen; background ot3 implied

**Author's Note:**

> Behold! The very first MSA fic I ever wrote. This one sprang from an ask meme where someone would send in the first sentence of a fic and I'd write the next three. Despite flagrant abuse of semi-colons I still bungled it and wrote four instead-- oops!
> 
> Also, this was written long before Ben dropped info about Lewis' family, so it followed the headcanon I'd had at the time that he was an only child raised by his grandmother.

**Anonymous asked: If he doesn't look Lewis in the eyes, he sometimes forgets that his best friend is dead.**

 




 

If he doesn't look Lewis in the eyes, he sometimes forgets that his best friend is dead.

He’ll wake up in the middle of the night to Lewis’ familiar warmth at his back or the comforting breadth of his silhouette in front of him; Lewis will clap him on the back, or muss up his hair, or casually drape his arms over Arthur’s shoulders and rest his chin on Arthur’s head; he will scoop Vivi up into his arms or lead her in a few impromptu dance steps in fits of grandiose affection, and for a moment it’s so easy to believe that nothing’s changed. That poison-green mist and sharp, remorseless spires of rock were nothing more than a terrible nightmare.

Arthur hates these moments more than anything, because they end and it comes crashing back down on him that he can’t let himself forget that everything has changed— can’t let himself _pretend_ otherwise— and it’s all because of him. Because when Lewis curls protectively around him and Vivi and Mystery at night he doesn’t sleep, he can’t anymore; because Arthur or Vivi will still sometimes make an extra cup of coffee in the morning that goes cold and has to be poured down the sink; because Lewis can’t face his family and Arthur has seen the look on his face when he watched from a distance as his _abuela_ knelt in the dirt front of a polished stone in her church clothes and talked to it for almost twenty minutes; because Lewis still sometimes flinches away when Arthur reaches for him and Vivi still has migraines and memory problems.

But Lewis still makes the effort to smile at him, still calls him _hermano_ or _rey flaquito,_ still draws Arthur along with Vivi into his lap when they watch movies together; and Lewis’ forgiveness is sometimes so much worse than any amount of his rage could be.


	2. Vivi; very sleepy ot3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another three sentence prompt ficlet

**Anonymous asked: If she sits very still, then maybe they won't wake up and ruin the moment.**

 




 

If she sits very still, then maybe they won't wake up and ruin the moment.

It’s rare for her to be able to see them this peaceful; bad nights for any of them are becoming mercifully rarer as of late, but she usually drifts off right with them on good ones. When she comes to in the morning, she’s missed it; Lewis, who never truly sleeps as much as meditates to begin with, is always conscious before she is and Arthur has usually already transitioned into restless half-sleep, shifting and squirming as he inches towards full wakefulness.

So moments like this were something of a treat, with her alert to witness both of them perfectly still save for the soft rise and fall of their chests (Lewis had acquired the peculiar habit of breathing only recently; but already he did it almost every time he “slept” and increasingly often when he was awake). Lewis’ arm is curled lightly around Arthur’s back in a near perfect mirror of the one cradling Vivi; Arthur’s mouth hangs slightly open and his cheek is squashed up comically against Lewis’ shoulder, his hand clutching loosely to a fold in Lewis’ shirt. Vivi slides her hand over Lewis’ chest and slips the other under Arthur’s palm, smiling at his contented sleep-sound as he grips her fingers gently, and with a sigh she closes her eyes and lets herself drift off as well.


	3. Lewis; more sleepy ot3; vaguely suggestive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another prompt meme fill. One of each for all three of the gang!

**Anonymous asked: first sentence meme: Good morning kisses might not the best part of being used as the group pillow, but they're a close third.**

 




 

Good morning kisses might not the best part of being used as the group pillow, but they're a close third.

It was nearly always Vivi who woke first, announcing herself by kissing a trail along his neck and jaw up to his mouth, then crawling over his torso to prod Arthur into some level of alertness before kissing him too, and if he wasn’t fully awake when she started, he always was by the time she pulled away, and flushed pink from chin to forehead besides; and a shade darker still after he’d scooted himself up to meet Lewis’ mouth. Sometimes these morning greetings remained chaste, and sometimes— they really, really didn’t.

The second best thing was the ritual of settling down to sleep; legs tangled and arms embracing and their heads resting on his chest, conversations murmured until words splintered and faded into even breaths. Some of these were absurd due to fatigue; some confessional (they were always honest with each other now, or at least they tried to be, but something about the quiet safety of their bed lent itself to a certain candidness); some of a nature that would have made Lewis need Confession, had he still been a religious man.

The very best thing though, was that in the calm and stillness of the night, while Vivi and Arthur slept and Lewis drifted through something that wasn’t quite sleep but was close enough, he could feel their heartbeats, steady and familiar and reliable, and sometimes he even fancied he could feel his own.


	4. Arthur; ot3; kisses

**bi-bucky-barnes asked: I want the K (pssst the OT3)**

**Neck Kiss**

 




 

“We know you’re awake, Vi. You’re not fooling anyone.”

The three of them sprawled out on the couch; or more accurately, Vivi and Arthur sprawled out across Lewis, who took up nearly all of the couch on his own. Arthur found himself somewhat stuck between the back of the couch and his girlfriend, who was both clearly awake and clearly having fun messing with him, if the frequent, tiny twitches at the corners of her mouth were any clue.

“Vivi I have  _ work _ to do.” She made an exaggerated sleep-noise and “unconsciously” wiggled closer to him, throwing an arm over his torso and trapping him further. “Lewiiiiiis. Help me out here.” Lewis looked more amused than anything at Arthur’s plight, but he gently grasped at Vivi’s hip and shook her slightly.

"Alright  _ cariña _ , c’mon. Up and at ‘em, Atom Ant.” Vivi hooked a leg over Arthur, but otherwise refused to budge. Arthur made a bird-like exasperated noise and Lewis, demonstrating great sympathy, laughed at him. He brushed a stray bit of hair from Vivi’s face and placed a soft, brief kiss on the juncture of her shoulder and neck.

Her sleeping act broke down ever so slightly in response as she smiled and squirmed a little. Struck by an idea, Arthur wormed his way closer to her and pressed his mouth against that same spot on the opposite side of her neck, in a fashion significantly less chaste than Lewis had done. He pulled back and moved up slightly along the line of her pulse, lingering a little longer and tracing a tiny spiral on her skin with the tip of his tongue.

Her head tilted upwards and Arthur peered over at Lewis, who had two fingers lifting Vivi’s chin and was busy with his own ministrations at the skin behind her ear. Vivi had her lower lip clamped firmly under her teeth and her mouth pinched inward in a failing effort to keep from grinning.

Arthur redoubled his attentions, focusing on the high point of her pulse that he knew made her go weak in the knees, lightly drawing his teeth across before suckling gently at the skin. Vivi gave up her pretense of sleeping and threaded her fingers through the hair at the base of Arthur’s neck, flexing them rhythmically and making quiet, appreciative noises as he trailed a line of open-mouthed kisses along the angle of her jaw.

When he pulled away her eyes were open and she was pointing a mock-pout in his direction.

"Fine, I’m awake. Are you happy?” Arthur shifted and scooted upward, preparing to sit up.

“I am if it means I can get up and work, yeah.” Vivi’s leg was still draped over him and she easily shifted her weight to straddle his waist.

“Oh, no,” she said. “Don’t think for a minute that you’re getting away before you get your comeuppance,” she said with dangerous sweetness, twirling one finger round and round his goatee. “Hold him, Lew Lew.” Arthur felt Lewis’ large, warm hand slip under his tank to splay across his belly, and he tucked his face into the crook of Arthur’s neck.

“Traitor,” Arthur groused. Lewis merely chuckled, his breath throwing admittedly delightful warmth over Arthur’s skin. Vivi leaned in to nuzzle at the base of his throat. “I really do have work to do, you know.”

“Well that’s just too damn bad, isn’t it?” she purred against his neck, and he laughed.


	5. Arthur; flashback; Arthur and Vivi meet Lewis

He was ten, and Vivi was twelve. They knew the restaurant; they walked past it every day, but they’d never seen the boy outside sweeping before. His dark hair hung over his eyes and his hands were so wrapped in bandages that it looked like he had a hard time holding the broom. A bell rang, and the woman who Arthur recognized as one of the restaurant’s owners stepped onto the sidewalk, folding her arms sternly over a very pregnant belly.

“Lewis, your hands are never going to heal this way.” Her voice carried, melodious but imposing, but the boy— Lewis— spoke so softly in reply that Arthur couldn’t catch what he’d said. Whatever it was, Mrs. Pepper’s expression softened and she knelt to his height, brushing the hair back from his face. “You are a such a sweet boy, Lewis. But right now all we need you to do is get well, alright  _ mijo _ ?” He nodded solemnly, then finally smiled when she mussed his hair again.

Both of their expressions changed to surprise as the door flew open with another clatter of the bell and a tiny pink blur streaked out. Mr. Pepper was close behind but tripped at the threshold and went sprawling on the ground. He and Mrs. Pepper struggled to stand while Lewis took off after her, but he ran with a heavy limp and the little girl outsped him even on her tiny toddler legs.

Vivi moved at the exact moment Arthur did, both of them throwing their arms out to catch the girl as she reached them, caging her in an awkward sort of sandwich between them. She let out a high crow of 'Leeewww' as the boy caught up to where they stood, and as soon as they released her she practically threw herself into the arms of the one she’d only a moment before been pelting away from.

"Thank you,” he murmured over her squirming form, his voice still so quiet that Arthur could barely hear him from less than two feet away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The kidlet is Belle, and Mrs. Pepper is pregnant with Cayenne.


	6. Arthur; flashback; Kingsmen family bonding

He was five, and he was breaking an awful lot of rules right now. He was supposed to be in bed; the clock on the oven had read 11:36 when he’d looked for Lance in the kitchen, later than he’d ever been up before. 

Even if it hadn’t been so late, he’d been put to bed early. It wasn’t because he’d cut his hair on his own that he was in trouble, but rather that he’d stolen the kitchen shears from the drawer to do it with, and given himself a nasty nick on the ear in the process. Lance had been more matter-of-fact than angry when he’d bandaged up the cut and gave him a talking-to, but sent to bed early was sent to bed early.

And even if it wasn’t so late and he wasn’t supposed to be in his room, he wasn’t allowed to go in the attic: too many dangerous or breakable things; though usually the door was locked so it didn’t matter. But he crept up the narrow staircase anyway, the shadows and silence of the rest of the house pushing him forward.

Lance was crouched in front of a large machine, something that looked like it could have been the radio in Arthur’s room’s grandfather, shuffling through a pile of tools and grumbling to himself. Near the stairs was a lone screwdriver that had apparently escaped unnoticed, and Arthur scooped it up, padding softly over to his uncle and offering it.

“You ain’t supposed to be up,” he said, but he didn’t sound like he was scolding, and he didn’t look mad. He plucked the tool from Arthur’s grip and set to tightening something in the belly of the machine.

“Had a bad dream,” Arthur mumbled, twisting his empty hands together and looking at the floor.

“You, too, huh?” Arthur looked up, startled. He hadn’t thought grownups had things like nightmares, and especially not Lance. “Well since you’re up here already, why don’t you stick around and help me with this.”

And so he did. He tried to commit to memory the parts that Lance pointed out and named for him in the enormous radio, and the names of the tools that he asked Arthur to hand him. The night passed from silence into incessant questions from Arthur, and back to silence again as he ran out of steam and fell back asleep.


	7. Arthur; Vithur; suggestively intense smooching

**transientday asked: Vivi/Arthur for 39. “Hey! I was gonna eat that!”**

 




 

“Hey! I was gonna eat that!”

“You’re right, you  _ were _ gonna–” Vivi said smugly, primly licking away the last traces of mint-chip ice cream and grinning around her spoon. Arthur let out a sigh that was really more of a laugh, not actually terribly bothered.

“You owe me a pint,” he told her anyway as he crossed behind her perch on the couch on the way to shower off the residue of that day’s work and change his clothes. He mussed her hair as he passed, pushing her headband and the curls it kept at bay forward into her eyes, earning him several swats with the spoon.

He padded back into the living room not long later, plucking absently at his thin sleep-shirt as it stuck a little to his still slightly damp skin. He collapsed on the other end of the couch and closed his eyes, letting the light and noise of the television wash over him without really paying much attention.

“If Lewis was here you wouldn’t get away with bullying me like that.” Vivi nudged him lightly with her foot. The third member of their party was spending the weekend with his parents and sisters.

“If Lewis were here  _ you _ wouldn’t get away with stealing other people’s food,” Arthur retorted, eyes remaining closed. Vivi puffed out a laugh and then fell silent for a moment. When she spoke again, a note of  _ something _ mischievous had crept into her tone.

“I’ll have to make it up to you, somehow, I suppose….” Arthur cracked open one eye to find her regarding him with a contemplative smirk. Before he could react to this ominous sight he found himself caged in Vivi’s limbs as she settled into his lap, her face very close to his. Before he could react to  _ this _ turn of events, she had closed the meager distance between them and slanted her mouth over his.

She didn’t bother to start chaste and work her way up, instead diving in with all of her intense enthusiasm. At first the kiss left Arthur too stunned to do much of anything, but the inquisitive, silky-hot glide of her tongue across the seam of his lips snapped him out of it and he responded eagerly, one hand threading into the hair at the nape of her neck while the other curled against her back.

She still tasted like milky sugar and mint and this drew a thready, hungry sound from his throat, to which she responded with a pleased hum of her own and a delicate bite to his lower lip. Arthur could hardly catch his breath by the time she pulled away, but it still felt much too soon.

“I-I– guess I can– let it slide,” he panted. “’st this once–”

“I dunno–” she mused in a low voice. “Now I think you owe me.”

“For what–?” She smiled in response, draping her arms over his shoulders and leaning in close to his face once more.

“For getting me all worked up craving something sweet again,” she cooed.


	8. Secret Santa; kisses for everyone!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an MSA Holiday Spirits Secret Santa gift that I wrote for my friend arthurtristankingsmen, which is why these are all together instead of being separated into their own chapters. They're all shamelessly fluffy so enjoy lol

The first time he’d kissed Arthur– or more accurately, that Arthur had kissed him– was an accident of all things.

Things were– stable. Not bad by any stretch; tensions had mostly eased, wounds had mostly scarred over and healed.

But then, it was that ‘mostly’ that was the problem. Things weren’t bad objectively, sure, and they were miles better than they’d been when Lewis had first returned home. But compared to before– before things had gone so wrong between them all–

More and more often lately Lewis found himself contemplating the old chestnut about not knowing how good you had it until you lost it.

For now though, it almost felt like nothing had been lost at all. Vivi was at work and Arthur was off, so they’d spent the day together doing absolutely nothing, just like they used to. Midway through an old episode of The Twilight Zone Arthur had, much to his surprise (not to mention a softer, slightly giddier feeling), slumped against his arm, sound asleep.

That had been almost two hours ago and he hadn’t budged once. It was less than an hour now before Vivi would start heading home.

He hated to wake Arthur up when he still hardly slept peacefully (or, he had to admit, when he looked as cute as he did at the moment, or felt as warm). But if he wanted dinner done by the time Vivi finished her shift, he needed to start cooking now. It was much easier to get Arthur to eat an actual meal, rather than six granola bars while hunched over his blueprints, when it was all of them at the table together.

Aside from that he just preferred it that way, and he knew Vivi did too. And if he didn’t give Arthur the chance to scurry off and hide in his room and get preoccupied with his projects, he’d stay. Lewis reached around with the arm not pinned down by the sleeping blond and shook him slightly.

“Arthur–”

Arthur grumbled something indistinct but didn’t do so much as twitch. Lewis let out a sigh that was part laugh. As hard as it was for Arthur to get into a good sleep, once he did he was like a rock.

“Artie,” he murmured again. “Up and at ‘em, Atom Ant.”

He at least moved this time, if only to tuck his face belligerently  into Lewis’ shoulder as though that would help him escape wakefulness. Lewis really laughed now.

“No– nope, no hiding, _flaquito_ , I’m sorry.” He jostled him again, a little more insistently.

Finally Arthur sat up, one eye still squeezed shut and the other squinting blearily, his hair sticking out at odd angles.

“You’re a mess,” Lewis informed him with a small grin. Arthur turned to him, looking as though he was mildly surprised at first to find Lewis there beside him.

“G’m’rng…”

“It’s almost five in the evening, Artie.”

Arthur blinked again and made a deeply contemplative noise, brow furrowed as he absorbed this. After a moment he seemed to come to a conclusion with a decisive nod.

And without warning he leaned up and kissed Lewis on the mouth.

The angle was awkward with Arthur’s aim dulled by half-sleep, but his mouth was soft and so warm and Lewis caught an unnecessary breath from the shock and the way his projected skin suddenly felt electrified.

Either that quiet sound or the kiss itself jolted Arthur the rest of the way awake, and he choked. He planted his hands against Lewis’ chest and shoved himself away. His eyes were wide, his face pale except for blotches of bright red riding high on his cheeks.

“Shit–! Shit– fuck– I-I’m– shit, I’m so sorry, I– I-I’m just gonna go I’msorry–” Every word sent him scooting another centimeter away, until Lewis touched his shoulder and he froze.

The look Arthur was giving him was stricken and ashamed, but– god the intensity of relief Lewis felt at this was so selfish, but– he didn’t look afraid of him. Lewis felt all at once as though his anchor would collapse in on itself and like it would shatter outward in a burst of agonizing hope.

He gently tugged Arthur forward– if he’d made any move to resist Lewis would have let go immediately. But he didn’t. Arthur allowed Lewis to pull him back towards him, and Lewis surprised them both by going so far as to sweep Arthur’s legs over his own so that Arthur was half sitting in his lap. He was still tense with confusion and embarrassment, and Lewis made an effort to soothe that away by rubbing his back.

“Arthur–”

“L-look Lewis, I’m– I’m really sorry I wasn’t awake I wasn’t thinking–”

“Artie.” He rested his cheek against the top of Arthur’s head and Arthur trailed off uncertainly. He did relax though, and another wave of thankfulness swept over Lewis. He was still so used to Arthur flinching whether or not he meant to, even though that had mercifully drastically lessened of late. He flinched at a lot of things that he hadn’t before and Lewis hated that he’d ever made himself one of them.

“…How long have you wanted to do that, Arthur?”

“Um.”

“Vivi and I– we’ve both wanted to for a while now. Since before– well, before.”

“ _ Um?? _ ” Arthur’s face was comically blank and Lewis failed to stifle an inappropriately timed laugh.

“I don’t think this is a conversation we should have without Vivi here, but she’ll be home soon.” A somewhat sly smile made its way onto his lips. “She’ll be a bit jealous, though. She was bound and determined that she’d be the first to kiss you, _príncipe_.” Arthur managed to give him A Look, as Vivi put it, even through his renewed blush.

“Listen.... I don’t want you two fighting over me,” he said gravely, and they both laughed.

 

* * *

 

 

Much as she enjoyed the adrenaline rush of a case, the hands-on kind of discovery that came from tackling the supernatural directly (with varying levels of ‘literal’ applied to the tackling)–

Much as she loved that side of their line of work, Vivi had to admit that calm, lazy days like today were pretty dang nice, too.

Lewis made for an excellent lounging seat while he lounged himself on the couch watching a cooking show. Now and again he’d turn his head to drop a kiss into Vivi’s hair or brush one along the outer curve of her ear. She had her laptop propped on top of her knee, balanced against the back of the couch; a book laid open against her chest to keep her page hands-free until she needed to check it again.

Which she found herself having to do frustratingly often today. She was trying to prepare for a case they’d recently taken, and though they weren’t going to leave for the minuscule town in Rhode Island for another two weeks, she wanted to get as much done ahead of time as she could. Fortune favored the bold, sure, but it also favored the prepared.

After the second-dozenth time she turned to the book, flipping through pages perhaps a little more aggressively than was warranted, Lewis reached around her and caught her hands, pressing his thumbs into her palms.

“You have very sharp elbows, _querida_ , did you know that.”

“Sorry, sorry– I just– This ghost we’re going to see is amnesiac, right? I’m trying to tinker with this memory spell so it’ll restore them instead of hiding them, but– I can’t figure out what herb could work here. Dried won’t work here, it’d need to be fresh, or even still alive. All the ones I can find that might work we’d never be able to get our hands on in New England, let alone New England in winter.”

Lewis hummed thoughtfully, skimming the current page over her shoulder.

“What about snowdrops?”

“Snowdrops? We’d be able to find some easy, yeah, but those are more for counteracting and resisting befuddlements and hallucinations than memory.”

“Right, but remember that article you told us about the other day? How they’re using a chemical from snowdrop flowers to treat dementia. Even if the modern medicine use doesn’t match the lore, you’re always saying that thing about science and magic–”

“Any science advanced enough is indistinguishable from magic and any magic studied thoroughly enough is indistinguishable from science–”

“That’s the one. So if it works in a ‘sciency’ sense, it should work in spell-casting, too, yes?”

“Lewis!” She turned to face him quick as a dime, framing his face between her hands. He blinked, mouth quirking in that bemused little quarter-smile of his.

Vivi leaned in and kissed him soundly, one hand coming up to fluff through his bangs– they shifted through her fingers, feeling like something between real, physical hair and spectral fire. She breathed him in, the scent of him curling warm and comfortable and familiar in her chest. Vanilla and chilies and the memory of the cologne he’d favored when he was alive.

He looked dazed and very slightly cross-eyed when she pulled away and with how giddy she already was in the wake of kissing him Vivi couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“Lew, you’re a genius!” she bubbled. He blushed– more than he already was– and the glow of his irises brightened. Vivi found herself very tempted to dive right back in and kiss him again.

“I-I’m really just repeating back what you’ve said to me before, honestly. But I try to do my best,” he said with a soft chuckle.

“Your best is *the* best,” she beamed back and he laughed fully, that rich, warm sound she could feel as much as hear. Lewis leaned their foreheads together and brushed the tip of his nose against hers.

“If I didn’t know better,” he murmured, “I’d think you had some kind of agenda behind all this sweet talking.”

“Oh but I do.”

“Do you?”

“Yes~” she said with as much exaggerated sweetness as she could muster, hoping to get him to laugh her favorite laugh again. He didn’t disappoint her.

“Have I mentioned lately that you terrify me a little, _lunita_?” Vivi’s grin widened as she pushed him down softly against the arm of the couch and leaned forward to rest herself on his chest, draping her arms over his broad shoulders.

“Jokes on you, mister; my reign of terror has not even begun.”

 

* * *

 

 

Working with Arthur always helped her concentrate better. Something about the background of his tools clicking and clinking, the light whirr of his arm’s internal parts, even the arrhythmic tempo of his habit of tapping the table with his metal fingertips whenever he paused for thought– all of them settled her mind and helped to keep the words still on the page in front of her. His upbeat electronica music on the radio energized her. She filled page after page with notes twice as quickly as she would have trying to pore over her books alone.

Every now and again a song would come on that Arthur apparently recognized and he’d hum along briefly. She never noticed he’d started until he trailed off again too soon and the absence of his warm voice hit her like a winter chill.

She peeked up from the article she was reading to watch him. His brow was furrowed inward, the corner of his bottom lip vanishing between his teeth, his nose just the tiniest bit wrinkled.

It was intensely unfair how he could manage to be so attractive with absolutely no conscious intent. Deplorably unfair. Maybe even illegal.

….

Working with Arthur always helped her concentrate except when it really, really distracted her.

And speaking of distraction, she’d apparently distracted hers from his own work. Arthur was looking at her questioningly, head tipped to the side.

_ Definitely _ illegal.

As if by intervention of fate the new song that came on the radio was in perfect swing time and Vivi sprang to her feet.

“Dance with me!” She grabbed his hands, already matching her steps to the beat as she pulled him up out of his chair to the empty floor.

“V-Vivi–! Geez, Vi c’mon, you know I suck at this–”

“You’re not dancing for an audience you know, Artie. Just us!” She grinned at him and moved his hands into position, counting off their steps for him.

He was still hopelessly off beat; as in-tune with the rhythm of a machine’s guts as he could be with his hands, his feet just never seemed able to keep up with a tune. That was okay with Vivi, though. Technical prowess wasn’t why she liked dancing with Arthur, anyway–

His lagging footwork didn’t improve at all, but he clearly was starting to have fun. Every misstep brought forth one of those soft, under-the-breath laughs that she loved, and while his grin was small, it was constant.

As the song neared its end, the last chorus picked up speed and knocked Arthur off the shaky pattern he’d finally managed to set for himself. He stumbled, treading on her foot slightly. It didn’t hurt and she made no complaint, but he rushed out apologies anyway.

“Crap– shit, I’m sorry– you know I can’t dance Vivi, you were kinda tempting fate there but sorry, really. You okay?”

“No damage done, you worrywort,” she laughed. She spun on the assaulted toe to underline the assurance, turning her back on him. A slow smirk bloomed on her lips. “You know, if you really feel like dancing is too hazardous, you can always just stand still and do that thing with your hips that you’re so good at–”

She wiggled hers at him in demonstration, grinning hugely when she swivelled back to see him wearing a glowing blush and what could only be described as an affectionate scowl. She looped her arms around his neck and minced closer as the radio transitioned into a slower song, one that lent itself to swaying together with no ‘room for Jesus’ left between them.

“I’m a big fan of that one,” she whispered conspiratorially, earning a snort as Arthur wrapped his arms around her waist.

“You,” he informed her, “Are ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but you love me.”

Arthur blushed again, even the tips of his ears going pink.

“I kinda do, yeah–” His voice was soft, so earnest and still a little shy even now and _ goddamnit _ it really just was not fair at all. Even straining as high on her toes as she could she still fell short of her goal, planting a kiss directly into Arthur’s goatee instead of on his lips. She tried again, tugging him down a little closer.

His blush was brighter than ever when they separated, but so was his smile. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Kinda, huh?”

“Mm, just, you know–” He held up his thumb and forefinger barely a centimeter apart. “A little.” He laughed at the light sock to his shoulder and she couldn’t help but laugh along.

“You’re such a nerd.”

“Yeah but–” He leaned his forehead down on hers. “You love me.”

“Yes, I sure do.”


	9. Lewis; flashback to highschool age Lewis; Pepper family fluff

**hobgoblinsandpeachfuzz asked: #7 or #98 for the drabble challenge! :D**

**“Well, that’s tragic.“ / “The store ran out of Easter eggs.”**

 




 

“The store ran out of Easter eggs,” Belle announced mournfully before they were even entirely through the door. Cayenne pouted silently in Lewis’ arms as he smiled and shrugged at their mother.

“The truck that was supposed to deliver the dairy stock to the Spratley’s last night was in a wreck. The driver was fine but the eggs were beyond saving.”

Tempo being as small as it was, Spratley’s Market was really the only feasible option for groceries, unless you were willing to drive an hour out (and that was being optimistic about the traffic) to Ritmo where the nearest megamart was. It wasn’t a journey Lewis was keen to brave with two grumpy and disappointed girls in tow.

“Well, that’s tragic,” Lucinda Pepper nodded in solemn agreement as she spooned another bite of baby food into Paprika’s waiting mouth. “I suppose we’ll just have to make our own, this year.”

“Gan’t *mage* eggsh,” Cayenne mumbled around her thumb– a habit she’d almost let go of except when times were as dire as this. Lewis delicately tugged it out of her mouth before she continued. “We’re people, not chickens.”

“Are you sure?” Lewis grinned, juggling her in the crook of his elbow. “I bet if I tickled you enough you might lay an egg eventually.” With his free hand he demonstrated, sending Cayenne into fits of protest between squealing laughter. Belle snickered behind her hands, completely unsympathetic to her sister’s plight, and Paprika, not one to ever be left out of a good time, shrieked jubilantly and drummed on her high chair tray.

Once the joyful noise died down to muted giggling, Lewis set Cayenne down and crossed the kitchen, pecking his mother on the cheek and taking over feeding the baby.

“You’re talking about those egg-shaped chocolate molds from the Duck Walk a couple years ago, right? I didn’t know we still had those,” he said, wagging the mermaid-shaped spoon in front of Paprika until she opened her mouth like a baby bird.

“They’re in the downstairs kitchen. No use throwing out perfectly good tools just because there’s not an immediate use in sight.” Mrs. Pepper pulled out silicone mats and double boilers from the cabinet, started filling the pans with water to set to boil.

Belle and Cayenne had caught on, and the prospect of making chocolate eggs had their faces so bright with excitement that it was almost hard to believe they’d ever been downhearted about a single thing in their lives.

“We won’t be able to make as many,” Mrs. Pepper cautioned as she brought out twin containers of milk and white chocolate. “Since they take more time and work. Two each. But we can make them fancy enough to make up for it,” she finished with a smile and a wink.

“Yes, mama!” the girls chorused, grins ear to ear. They didn’t notice Lewis mouthing it along with them, pulling a face at the baby to make her laugh so he could sneak the last spoonful of squash into her mouth.

“I’ll let you take credit for mine, chickadee,” he told her, delicately ruffling the downy fuzz on her head.


	10. Arthur; lewvithur; wake-up kisses

He’d been sound asleep, dreaming about– about something. Something pretty forgettable, apparently.

He was surrounded by warmth on all sides and it was shifting, jostling him only slightly but enough to dredge him partly out of sleep. Twin spots of more intense heat and pressure on either cheek– a kiss on each– pulled him the rest of the way up.

“Hmmghh–wh–?”

“Good morning, sunshine.”

“Up and at ‘em, Atom Ant.”

Arthur opened his eyes to find Vivi and Lewis propped on their elbows on either side of him, grinning down.

“M’rng?” he slurred, and they laughed.

“You don’t seem quite awake yet,  _ flaquito _ .”

“S’help me waeggup,” he stuck his tongue out at them.

They obliged him, planting kisses everywhere they could reach– one from Vivi to the corner of his jaw, one from Lewis to his temple. A lingering one slanted over his lips, a string of light ones along his shoulder, one on each knuckle, more on each cheek.

Soon enough he was very thoroughly awake and laughing so that he could barely catch his breath, with the bright, wonderful sound of their laughter blending with his.


	11. Vivi; nsfw lewvithur

**bluescarfvivi asked: ((Vivi getting sandwiched by both her boys :3))**

 




 

Lewis’ chest is warm and solid as she leans back against him, and even though his anchor is hidden away she can feel its drumming between her shoulder blades as clearly as she can her own racing heart.

He’s hard– she can feel it when her lower back brushes against him with her squirming– but his hands are soft as they glide along her ribcage and his lips are softer still, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the hollows behind her ears and the thrumming pulse at the base of her neck.

Arthur has one of her legs draped over his shoulder, his metal hand gently cupped against her waist. His hair tickles her belly as she rocks her hips restlessly. She grabs at the wrist of his prosthetic for some kind of purchase as each lingering stroke of his tongue– the delicate way his lips ply at her– he, him– as  _ he _ coaxes breathless laughter from her throat.

He quite unsubtly sneaks glances upward to watch her face or match gazes with Lewis and  _ jesus _ the look in his eyes makes her toes curl. She’s hot and tense and she  _ didn’t just *whimper*, no sir _ and she’s all but overwhelmed and the sweet, smoldering knot in the pit of her belly just grows and tightens—

Lewis’ hands cover and knead at her breasts and her murmurs her name so sweetly in her ear and god– god–  _ oh god _ it’s very suddenly too much and her back bows upward and a high breathy sound pearls in her throat.

She relaxes against Lewis’ chest and lets her head loll into the crook of his neck while he noses lightly against her scalp, tucking damp tendrils of hair behind her ears. Arthur strokes the back of her knee lightly with the fingers of his flesh hand and lays quiet kisses along the top of her thigh. He smiles into her skin, small and smug, and she huffs at him in fake irritation.

“C–c’mere–” she reaches for him and he obliges her, crawling up onto the mattress and within range of her beckoning arms. She hooks him around the neck and tugs, unbalancing him so he all but crashes into her kiss. She ignores Lew’s amused admonition in favor of focusing on the taste of herself lingering in Arthur’s mouth and the soft but deliciously needy sound he makes when she slides her hand down his chest to palm at his erection.

She croons his name in the spaces between each kiss, trailing them down to his jaw and along the tendon in his neck as he settles kneeling onto the bed. Lewis leans close behind her to steal a brief kiss from Arthur for himself before nudging her forward into his lap.

Her forehead rests against Arthur’s and her gaze locks with his as she straddles his thighs, and she cradles the corners of his jaw in her palms. She hums low in her throat as she slides down onto him and relishes the way he sucks a sharp gasp that tries to be her name in through his teeth.

“Vi–” 

Her thighs squeeze at his hips and she rocks slightly, savoring as much as adjusting. Lewis presses against her back, even closer than before and more eager with his mouth and wandering hands.

She runs her hands everywhere she can reach as she moves with him, running the pads of her fingers over the braille of his spine, the ridges of his shoulder blades, the slope of his hips. Lewis maps her body with one of his own hands and his lips, and she shivers. He bites at her so softly– just barely grazing her skin but enough to send sparks racing along her nerves.

His hand splays over her belly and can feel the other one working behind her and Arthur’s breathing is getting more and more ragged as he buries his face against her shoulder. Lewis murmurs fragmentary Spanish into the back of her neck but she’s a little too distracted right now to mentally translate.

Just the purr of his voice is enough, and the way that Arthur saying her name sounds like a prayer and a promise and a plea and the way Lew’s hand drifts down between them to rub at her clit and the heavy heavy beating of his anchor and the way that the ethereal glow of his hair throws shadows over the planes of Arthur’s face and Arthur’s metal hand cradling her face because he’s forgotten to be wary of touching her with it and she comes again

it spirals through her like slow fireworks and she’s dimly aware of Arthur gasping and Lewis biting down a groan and she comes down feeling languid and liquid and warm in her boys’ arms. She closes her eyes, and slowly she reigns in her breathing, listens to Arthur’s also peter down into a normal rhythm and Lewis’ anchor slow and quiet.

Arthur nuzzles at her forehead with his and she opens her eyes again. He looks almost drunk in the eyes and he’s smiling at her slightly, dazedly.

“Hey,” he murmurs.

“Hey, yourself,” she whispers back, grinning, and begins to untangle herself.

She stretches, passing by the bed more times than is strictly necessary so she can steal as many kisses as she can as she wanders the room searching for Arthur’s shirt to steal as well. After she slips it on she turns to find Arthur lounging against Lewis’ chest, Lewis’ chin resting on his head, his thumb tracing circles on the back of Arthur’s metal hand. Another luxurious stretch-– she makes sure to draw it out and grins wickedly when she sees them staring.

“I dunno about you two, but after all of that, I am _starving_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written before I fully solidified my headcanon that Arthur is a trans man and incorporated that into my fics; so I portrayed him as cis in this particular one shot. In every other case though, including any future nsfw that I post featuring him, I write him as trans, and that's how he should be pictured in all my fics except for this specific one.


	12. Arthur; newly ot3; references to sex as a concept

**blazichu asked: On principle I HAVE to request 99 with the OT3.**

**“We’re in an abandoned lodge in the middle of nowhere. Sure, you’re totally right, nothing bad could ever happen here.”**

 




 

“We’re in an abandoned lodge in the middle of nowhere. Sure, you’re totally right, nothing bad could ever happen here.”

“Hey, if we’re going by horror movie logic, then we’ll be perfectly fine as long as no sex happens. I can restrain myself for one night– unless you really wanna risk it.” Vivi shot a grin over her shoulder at a lightly blushing Arthur, who stuck his tongue out at her. “Once Lew gets the fire started and that honeymoon atmosphere  _ really _ gets going are you going to be able to contain yourself?” she continued, unrepentant even as Arthur informed her that she was a terror.

Lewis laughed from where he knelt in front of fireplace, arranging logs and tinder.

“We can get firelight at home,  _ querida _ . I think our fireplace would make a nicer backdrop for that– ah– particular milestone.” He snapped his fingers, tossing the resulting spark into the hearth and coaxing it into a flame like a conductor leading a crescendo. Arthur flushed again at the remark.

“No one had sex in Evil Dead and things didn’t work out so hot for them, either.”

“So we’ll add ‘avoid listening to any suspicious tape recordings’ to our to-do list.”

She crossed the room and looped her arms around Arthur’s neck, just for the sake of being close to him. She blew lightly at a lock of hair that had started to droop over his forehead and grinned at him.

“Besides, even if we were beholden victims of movie tropes, I think you’ve got the genre all wrong. Clearly we’d be in a horror-comedy, not straight horror. That makes our chances significantly better, I’d think.”

She rocked up onto her toes and kissed him lightly, enjoying the way his breath caught at how still-novel the gesture was. The way he leaned down after her slightly as she drew back, as though chasing that contact, was  _ very _ nice as well. She blinked innocently as his slightly dazed expression firmed back up into an exaggeratedly serious one.

“….Cabin in the Woods was horror-comedy too and that one ended with the world about to blow up.”

Vivi snorted and pushed him lightly as his straight face broke and he laughed with her. Lewis’ own laughter joined them as he did.

“Now I think you’re just being difficult,  _ corazón _ .” Yet another blush creeped across Arthur’s face; he wasn’t quite used to terms of endearment like that either, nor to Lewis’ arms curling them both so softly against his chest. “Good grief, both of you feel freezing! Come over by the fire.”

After they’d settled, Vivi and Arthur more or less piled into Lewis’ lap and a large comforter from the van cocooned around them, Lewis pressed a kiss against Arthur’s temple, and Vivi one to his cheek.

“If you’re still worried, Artie,” she said, “Anything any horror movie could have thrown at us wouldn’t be any match for us.”


	13. Arthur; ot3 flavored pining; nsfw

It probably wouldn’t bother him as much if the dreams were just about sex. People had sex dreams about people they knew all the time– people had sex dreams about  _ strangers _ . It didn’t necessarily mean anything.

What really got to Arthur, was that in these dreams Vivi would twine their fingers together and lean her forehead on his, keeping eye contact. That she’d pull silly faces in an effort to make him laugh even as her body moved over his like a tide. That she’d pause mid-grind or mid-lick or mid-kiss to tell him about something interesting she’d read and just remembered. That when they’d fallen still in a breathless tangle of limbs she would trace the shell of his ear with one finger and say his name so that it sounded like a treasure.

In those dreams Lewis would stop before sinking down into him and just look, expression soft and tenderly awestruck, just like how he often looked at Vivi. He’d murmur or whisper or moan little endearments into the skin of Arthur’s throat or inner thigh or his mouth and he’d swear he could  _ taste _ Lewis’ sweet words. And afterwards he’d scoop Arthur close against the broad expanse of his chest and nuzzle into Arthur’s hair and hum softly, something tuneless.

Sex dreams would be one thing, but these– when he has these dreams he wakes up with the space between his lungs aching worse than the one between his legs. 

Because in these dreams  _ they love him, _ and that’s a hurt Arthur just doesn’t know how to deal with.


	14. Vivi; Vithur; you actively chose to date this butthead Vivi, now live with the consequences

She was wrapped up in her book, but not so much that she didn’t notice the chin that propped itself on her shoulder, leaving her nearly cheek to cheek with someone.

  
“Can I help you?” She asked, keeping her face carefully straight.

  
“Mm, nah,” Arthur replied cheerfully, looping his arms over hers to encircle her. “Just felt like taking a leaf out of your playbook and bothering you while you’re in the middle of something.”

  
“Not a very charitable way to treat your girlfriend, Kingsmen. Accusing her of things willy-nilly like that.”

  
He made a noncommittal sound and rubbed his cheek against hers, making her squirm at the slight tickle of his sideburns-- but only a little.

  
“If you’re goal is to bother me, I gotta be honest, you’re doing a pretty mediocre job.” She thumbed to the next page with deliberate nonchalance.  
“Ohh?” he said, and Vivi could feel the grin stretching his face more than she could see it.

  
“Yep. Four out of ten, and even that’s with some generous rounding just because I like you.”

  
“So I need to up my game, is what you’re saying?”

  
“I’m saying it’s a lost cause already, so you should give up now. You tried, and that’s what matters. Gold star for Artie.”

  
“And you aren’t just trying to use reverse psychology on me as a survival tactic? You wouldn’t stoop that low, would you Vi?”

  
“Excuse me?” She turned away from her book finally, pressing her hand to her chest in exaggerated affront. “Just what do you take me for?”

  
Arthur nosed under her jaw, and his grin widened.

  
“A mouse in a trap~”

  
Before she could react his arms clutched around her like a vice, holding her tight as he blew an enormous raspberry right into the crook of her neck. Vivi shrieked and thrashed but to no avail-- he had a good grip on her arms and good leverage besides, and she was unable to escape, helpless with laughter. She only got a reprieve when Arthur ran out of breath.

  
“You--” she gasped out. “Are a jackass and I WILL get you back for this, Arthur Kingsmen!”

  
“Even if I apologize?” He snickered against her skin, sounding about as far from apologetic as humanly possible.

  
“Even then! Your ass is grass, mark m--” He interrupted her with a brief kiss to her mouth, pulling away with a grin that didn’t carry even the tiniest hint of penance. “My words. Jerk.”

  
But she couldn’t help but grin right back


	15. Vivi and Lewis; lewvithur; first kisses

\---Vivi and Lewis---

 

Falling in love with Lewis had been the easiest thing she’d ever done--so easy, in fact, that she’d completely failed to notice she’d done it until right this very second. Of course she  _ loved _ him-- he’d been her best friend for years now, along with Arthur-- but when exactly had she tripped on romance and fallen headlong over heels?

 

They were on their third date, but they’d only now even realized it  _ was  _ dating that they had been doing for the past several weeks.

 

“Lewis... I think you’re my boyfriend now,” she’d said, baffled, and then they’d looked at each other and burst into laughter at how ridiculous they both were.

 

They had collapsed, weak with hilarity, against one another on the park bench where they’d taken a rest from their walk (their scenic, romantic walk for two, how had she  _ not noticed _ , good lord!). It had taken them a while again to realize just how close their faces were, just how many places their bodies were touching.

 

“Vivi-- may I kiss you?” His cheeks were dusted with red, his voice was so soft and warm and gentle, and so was his smile, and so were those  _ eyes  _ of his-- Vivi’s heart nearly stopped mid-beat.

 

“Now that you’ve asked me like that, you  _ have _ to,” she murmured, glad that her voice at least didn’t  _ sound  _ as astoundingly twitterpated as she felt. Though if she’d tried to speak again even that small saving grace for her dignity would have evaporated at his shy little laugh and the way his eyes crinkled up at the corners.

 

He leaned down to her and cradled her cheek oh so softly in his palm. For a long moment he hovered there with his breath playing over her lips, so close but not quite touching. She was unsure if he was hesitating or savoring the moment, but either way it was driving her near to distraction.

 

“Lew--” she said (maybe whined a little, who’s to say?), but was cut off when he finally closed that last little distance and laid his mouth on hers.

 

She’d had quite a few kisses in her day, and quite a few of them were far,  _ far _ less chaste-- but none of them made her feel quite like  _ this--  _ like glittering champagne and  _ shy _ in a way that she’d never really been before.

 

After a long, shimmering moment he drew away slightly with a dreamy, dizzy-sounding sigh. Without even having to think about it Vivi reached up for his ascot, gently tugging him back down to close the distance between them once again. 

 

“Don’t go anywhere just yet--” she murmured against his lips, and now she _definitely_ sounded twitterpated and almost plaintive. Lewis hummed some formless noise, and luckily he sounded just as smitten as she did, so she didn’t have to be too embarrassed about it. He brushed the tips of their noses together and it took everything she had not to giggle at how cheesy and saccharine and _wonderful_ this man was.

 

Lewis’ thumb rubbed a soft arc over her cheek and his other arm cradled her with a gentleness usually reserved for priceless treasures, and when he smiled into the second of what she hoped would be many, many,  _ uncountable _ kisses, she just couldn’t help but smile back.

 

\---Vivi and Arthur---

 

They’d at least brought an umbrella on their movie date because they  _ had _ been expecting it to rain by the time they’d be walking home.What they hadn’t expected was for the sky to open up like it was raring itself up for a flood of biblical proportions. The rain came down in blows that had basically murdered their poor umbrella via blunt force trauma and forced them under the awning of Tempo’s only florist shop for shelter.

 

“At least it’s warm,” Arthur laughed, futilely pawing back his wet hair from his forehead once again. A stray bead of water slid down the line of his jaw and Vivi’s eyes followed its path nearly all the way to his chin before he swiped it away. He noticed her staring and the corner of his mouth crooked up shyly.

 

_ God _ , but Vivi wanted to kiss him. She’d been wanting to kiss Arthur for such a long time now-- both in general and on this night in particular, and it was still a little hard to wrap her head around the fact that now she  _ could _ . She could  _ right now _ , even.

 

In fact…

 

She set the poor umbrella’s corpse on the ground and stepped to him, propping her forearms on his shoulders and beaming up at him.

 

“Can I help you?” he laughed, mimicking to near perfection how she habitually said it, and suddenly something about the moment shifted in a way that nearly made Vivi’s heart stop.

 

“Come down here for a second, would you?” She’d been going for jaunty flirtation, but her voice came out much softer, almost breathless. He went a very appealing shade of pink as he appeared to undergo the same shift of gravity that she had. 

 

When he’d leaned down into her range she caught his mouth delicately at first-- the last thing she wanted was to spook him even though pretty much the first thing she wanted was to  _ devour _ him because even that cautious, careful brush of lips lit her up inside like a Christmas tree.

 

There was a moment when she drew back and they just stared at one another. Arthur’s eyes were wide and pupil-blown dark and shining, and he swallowed.

 

And then that moment was over and they all but dove back at each other.

 

Vivi had always thought the whole ‘passionate first kiss in the rain’ scenario was overwrought and cliche as hell but somehow this was the exact perfect way for it to go for them. And really, she thought as Arthur’s arms tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against him so that the heat of his body soaked through the faint chill of their wet clothes; didn’t they deserve a little over-the-top romance, after everything it had taken to get them here?

 

So she clutched closer and leaned into this kiss that had gone graceless and a little sloppy with just how long it had been waited for, and she savored the quiet little noises in his throat and the silky texture of his mouth and how she could taste the faint echo of movie theater popcorn on his breath, and the way his heart hammered behind his ribs in a rhythm that perfectly complemented her own.

 

 

\---Lewis and Arthur---

 

He came to in the back of the van, woozy and disoriented, and strangely… comfortable? It took him a moment to realize that this was because his head was propped in a lap.

 

“Lewis?” Arthur murmured.

 

“I’m here,” he replied, voice soft.

 

Arthur smiled, warm and unguarded. It had taken Lewis awhile to realize just how much he’d missed Arthur’s smiling like that-- smiling at  _ him _ . Since certain revelations between the three of them those smiles were becoming less and less rare, but their impact on Lewis’ heart didn’t seem ready to dim any time soon. “What happened?”

 

“Role reversal,” Arthur answered,  touch of wryness finding its way into the corner of his grin.

 

“Very funny, Kingsmen,” he said, failing to sound even remotely unamused. “Are you alright?”

 

“You know, I should be asking  _ you _ that,” Arthur said, helping Lewis sit up. “That thing knocked you right back into your anchor with one good swing. We were worried.” A frown replaced that smile and Lewis tried not to feel too bereft about it. “Even after you came back out you didn’t wake up right away-- Mystery insisted you were gonna be fine but we just didn’t want-- yeah.”

 

_ Just didn’t want to lose you again _ , were the words Arthur hadn’t said.

 

“Well, Mystery was right. I feel fine-- Not  _ great _ , a little beat up, but definitely fine. I’m sure Mystery will be thrilled to be right.” He smiled at Arthur and was thrilled himself when Arthur’s own smile returned. “Where are Vivi and Mystery, anyway?”

 

“Magic hazmat cleanup. Her words, not mine. They said they’d be taking care of it for a couple of hours at most though, they shouldn’t be a whole lot longer.”

 

“And you didn’t want to leave me alone, even on Mystery’s word?” Lewis was touched, and charmed on top of it when Arthur flushed.

 

“Well, yeah, I--”

 

“Hey,” he said, and laid his hand over Arthur’s. “I know. I trust you.” God, it felt good for those words to come so easily again, and to  _ mean _ it. How could he have ever  _ not _ have trusted Arthur? Arthur who gently transferred bugs outside instead of swatting them and who had devoted weeks’ worth of sleepless nights to saving a hamster’s life. Who had protected him from older bullies as a child with a loyalty that was downright ferocious and had never wavered even after Lewis no longer needed protecting.

 

Who looked at him right now in this moment in a way that showed hearing those words had meant as much to him as saying them had to Lewis; who leaned forward and kissed him with a suddenness that suggested he wanted to just give into the impulse before he could manage to talk himself down.

 

It was a lot more awkward than Lewis had pictured their first being in all the daydreams that he’d only recently started allowing himself to have again. But Arthur’s mouth was soft and warm and even if this kiss wasn’t perfect, it was still perfect for what it  _ was _ :

 

A new, fresh start, or a symbol of it at least. They’d do it right this time; no more secrets, no more silence, no more hiding from what they wanted for fear of losing what they already had. Lewis cupped his palm around the base of Arthur’s skull as that first kiss slid smoothly into a second and Arthur looped one arm around his neck to pull him closer.


	16. Lewis; implied ot3; prompt fill: "Sea Change"

Vivi clutched the matted lump of seal skin in her lap, and Lewis clutched her in his. Her breathing came in dry, ragged wheezes and she was shaking so hard now that he was terrified he’d drop her despite how hard he held onto her, especially with Arthur driving as recklessly as Lewis had ever seen him do. He was going a good twenty miles over the speed limit, taking each turn at full clip– they didn’t have the seconds to spare for the rules of the road. About the only bit of luck they had on their side was that the small town streets were almost completely deserted at this time of night. **  
**

“Brace yourself,” Arthur said grimly, and it was the only warning Lewis got before the van bounced right over the curb and across the swath of scrubby grass separating the road from the beach. He plowed through the sand as far as he could before the tires started to sink and spin uselessly, but Lewis had already launched himself out of the passenger door and was pounding towards the surf before the van’s momentum was fully spent. He fumbled to help Vivi wrap the tattered skin around herself as he ran. He was so focused on her trembling form that he lost his footing just at the tide line, pitching forward onto his knees and losing his grip on Vivi. 

She landed in the shallows with a terrific splash and rolled, over and over into deeper water until she vanished from sight. Lewis strained to catch sight of something, anything that might be proof she was alright, that they hadn’t been too late, but for a long time all there was to be seen was black water and white reflections of moonlight. Arthur had arrived at his side by now, clutching at the top of his sleeve as they both stared out at the vast, winking ocean.

A scrap of black seemed to be moving differently than the rest, its shape and movements more round than the peaks of the waves. It also seemed to be moving towards them, growing larger and more distinct until they could see it for what it was: the face of a seal bobbing its way towards them.

Vivi launched herself into the shallows, changing as she did so that when she crashed into their arms she was a girl, hale and healthy again and naked as a jaybird except for the seal skin, now sleek and smooth as it was supposed to be. Her hair and skin glowed silver and blue in the moonlight. They clutched her tightly between them and she clung back and scattered kisses over their faces wherever she could reach. The three of them sat there, exhausted but elated, and let the tide wash over their legs.


	17. Lewis; gen; prompt fill: "How dare you"

“Lewis, what are these?” Arthur’s voice was inflectionless, his face oddly blank. The hand holding the sheaf of papers towards Lewis was steady, but the other hand-- the metal replacement-- betrayed agitation. The fingers of that hand drummed against the steel palm with muffled little clicks, a tic Arthur had developed since Lewis had been... gone.

“You… weren’t supposed to find those,” Lewis murmured. Not yet anyway.

He’d written a letter for everyone who’d need one: Vivi, his parents, one for each of his sisters, even one for Mystery. The one for Arthur had taken him the longest to write, unsure what he’d wanted to say, let alone  _ how _ to say it. He’d been planning on delivering them within the next few days, just before he left Tempo.

“Yeah, no shit I wasn’t.” Arthur’s voice hardened slightly, his expression souring by the same tiny degree. “What are they.”

“Letters--” he stammered. “Explanations. I thought that… I thought that after everything that’s happened, maybe it would be better if I…” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “If I made myself scarce, for a while. To give everyone a chance to recover without one more complication.”

“You’re running away, you mean.” Arthur’s tone was cold iron now. “Vivi’s brain is still swiss cheese. The shop, your folks’ place, Vivi’s apartment are all half trashed. Mystery’s off doing god knows what. ‘Everything that’s happened’ happened, and nobody has any answers about any of it, and you’re just running away? Are you  _ fucking _ kidding me, Lewis? You’re acting like  _ me _ .”   
  
Lewis was no stranger to Arthur being self depreciating, but usually he at least pretended to be playful about it. Now the sheer derision in his voice was startling-- as though Arthur couldn’t think of a crueler insult than to compare Lewis to himself.

“And all of that is  _ after  _ how instead of coming home you pissed off and set up some supervillain scheme to get revenge, and fine! Sure! I deserve that! But your parents didn’t-- your sisters didn’t-- Vivi didn’t! And now they just got you back but you want to leave out of some sense of fake nobility? How can you do that to them, Lewis? We  need you  _ here! _ ”

Lewis couldn’t quite put a name to the feeling those words inflicted on him-- Arthur hauling his metal fist back and slamming it directly into Lewis’ anchor might not even have had as much of an effect.

“We?” His voice was so quiet, and tinged with a trace of awful, unearned hope. Arthur blanched and looked away, mouth twisting, eyes glistening.

“They--” he croaked after a long, wretched moment. “ _ They _ need you.”

The idea that Arthur had written him off for good, as much as he had every right to, knotted up in Lewis’ chest for one hideous moment-- but the next moment was worse. Because he realized what Arthur was trying very hard not to say.

It wasn’t that Arthur  _ didn’t  _ want Lewis to stay, rather-- he didn’t think he  _ deserved _ to want it at all.


End file.
